


Breathtaking

by VioletMaenad



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Breathplay, Choking, Danero Secret Santa 2019, Light Bondage, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-25 20:48:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21911698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VioletMaenad/pseuds/VioletMaenad
Summary: For PlayingChello for the Danero Secret Santa 2019 (I'm so sorry I'm late)Nero asks Dante to test a new kink out
Relationships: Dante/Nero (Devil May Cry)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 114
Collections: Danero Secret Santa 2019





	Breathtaking

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PlayingChello](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PlayingChello/gifts).



> A/N: Aha, this is my first time writing breathplay/bondage/bdsm and it’s probably painfully obvious. Also so sorry I took so long to hand this over. Lady, I know you like IT, so just imagine it like the ending of Ch2 where they’re all yelling at baby-puddle Pennywise and then rip out his heart – except everyone on the server is yelling, including myself, at me, also a clown baby, and all you rip out is a choking fic.

Nero was insistent that Dante teach him every fighting move from practically the moment he moved in. Every little trick, every counter; anything that would help give him an edge over his enemy. Dante would whine and lean back in his chair, complain that he was too tired and didn’t wanna, that he was bored of throwing Nero to the ground for the 84th time when Nero blundered another manoeuvre he was trying to mimic.

“Well if you _properly_ taught me how to do the tricks you could finally take a break, old man.”

“Not gonna just give away the family secrets like that.”

“Your ma taught you how to sweep a person’s legs from under them whilst escaping a headlock?”

“If I teach you it, will you let me eat my pizza in peace?”

So, they found themselves in the alley behind Devil May Cry, in a loading lot that wasn’t used by anyone. They’d try sparring inside a few times, but they kept nearly breaking stuff, and there was one awkward point where Morrison had walked in on Dante trying to wrestle out of Nero’s infamous leglock (seriously, the brat must have _strong_ thighs – did Dante even have to teach him anything else when Nero had that in his arsenal?). The asphalt wasn’t _great_ , but it was better than picking wood splinters out of their backs, and at least they had space and were pretty alone.

So, the pair soon found themselves trying to fling each other into brick walls and snap bones (it’s _fine_ , they’ve both survived worse). _Trying_ being the key word, particularly on Nero’s part, as both were quick, cocky bastards who didn’t go down without a fight (literally). Dante would side step Nero’s over extended lunges, a quick push to his shoulder nearly sending Nero to the floor before he recovered his balance. Dante would try and catch Nero’s arms to pin them behind his back, but Nero would wriggle like a feral cat and stomp Dante’s foot, breaking a few toes. This sort of practice would go on and on till one of them tired out.

It was supposed to be practice for a _specific_ move, but they both had too much fun in the challenge of the fight and got lost in the thrill of the brawl. Though, toe breaking _hurt like a bitch_ , and Dante had just wanted to lazily spend the day eating pizza. Having enough, he let Nero rush him, this time catching him instead of twisting out of the way, and used Nero’s own momentum to hurl him to the ground. Nero went down with a grunt, freezing for a second as he processed the pain, before he was scrambling like a lizard to get back up.

Dante shot his hand down, spurred on by demonic instinct to subdue the challenger, and caught Nero’s neck. Nero thrashed for a second and Dante gave a quick squeeze. He could feel Nero’s pulse under his fingers, feel the younger cambion gasping for air. Then Nero locked eyes with Dante and something clicked. Nero stilled, and turned his head away, leaving his neck exposed. Dante’s demon purred at such a blatant show of submission; the same Nero always did when he tapped out of their fights, the same he’d done when they first fought. It always drew Dante’s demon to the surface and he craved to sink his teeth in and leave hickeys on Nero’s neck.

But something was a bit _different_ from the usual yields. Usually, Dante wasn’t right on top of Nero, usually standing above him as they caught their breath and said something smarmy, Rebellion pressed close or Dante’s foot keeping Nero’s chest or wrist pinned. And Nero usually had a glare, that had turned less indignant during their time and more playful and determined, that he held for much longer. He had turned his head far too quickly, keeping his eyes carefully pointed to the backdoor of the shop.

“You right, kid?”

He felt Nero tense under him, and felt the gulp under his palm.

_Oh shit_.

He was probably freaking Nero out with the grip on his neck!

Dante quickly got back up, and offered a hand to Nero. _Shit, shit, shit_. Sure, Nero had Rebellion pressed to his neck before, but Dante had shown clear intent he wasn’t planning to hurt Nero (beyond what their healing could handle) with it. But he’d let his demonic instincts get the better of him and _pressed himself on top of Nero and put his neck in a vice grip_. No wonder he’d yielded so fast; he must’ve been trying to appeal to Dante’s demon and not have his throat torn out. _Shit_.

“Sorry, sorry, I guess I got a little carried away.” Dante laughed, easing his expression into open friendliness. Last thing he wanted was to freak Nero out.

Dante masked his dismay when Nero didn’t take the offered hand, instead getting up by himself and dusting off. He wouldn’t meet Dante’s eye, and blurted a quick, “’s fine. Gonna go inside now.” And was slipping through the door.

Dante let out a slow sigh. He’d fucked up. Nero was panicking, rethinking leaving Fortuna to live with the older devil hunter, thinking that he’d let a monster into his bed that would kill him any day now and-

Dante’s spiralling thoughts were interrupted by the whiff of _something_. Arousal; heavier than what could be sparked by the adrenaline of a fight.

And Nero wasn’t really one to just run in fright at the prospect of danger; Nero had stomped around inside a weaponised statue to beat his cult’s leader to death, who was also hopped up on black magic and wielding a giant demon sword. If anything, Nero was more likely to pull the Yamato out of his arm and _demand_ Dante get his shit together.

There was only one thing that could make Nero run off like that.

Maybe Dante _hadn’t_ messed up after all.

* * *

“Hey, Dante?”

“Hmm?”

“Next time… could you just… _choke the shit outta me_?”

Dante probably should’ve said something witty to that, but his mind came up blank at his boyfriend’s blunt words. “Come… _come again_?”

Dante could hear Nero shift in his seat on the couch. It was a slow day – no jobs to go to and they were waiting on clients. And a slow day meant boredom; they could only listen to the jukebox and clean their weapons so many times. A lot of these sort of days were wasted with the two of them lazing around, eating pizza and flipping through mags.

And Dante, oh so romantically, tossing Nero onto his desk and fucking him over it.

Or Nero, also oh so romantically, straddling Dante and riding him blind.

But they had already had fucked this morning, after they’d finished cleaning Ivory, Ebony and Blue Rose inside and out, and before ordering pizza. Maybe they’d fuck again before they closed; who knew?

Dante put the magazine he was flipping through and stared at Nero. The younger hunter was looking pointedly away, staring at one of the dead demons Dante had pinned on the wall, but his too pale skin betrayed his bright blush. Dante let his chair fall back onto all fours, the sound making Nero jump, and leaned onto his arms.

“Nero, what did you say?”

Dante watched as Nero’s throat bobbed with a gulp. He loved Nero’s neck, always finding it a shame any marks he left were gone within minutes, but he could hardly imagine doing anything more than lovebites. Seemed Nero had other ideas, though.

“I _said_ … I want you to choke me next time we… _ya know_.”

“Uh… yeah?”

“Yeah.”

This was the first time they had ever discussed this sort of thing. Normally one would catch the other’s eye with a _look_ and the other would either roll their eyes or wink back in reply before following whenever the initiator went. They hadn’t even really discussed having sex in the first place; a few weeks of kissing and pretty pg-cuddling (and very charged spar sessions) and then _bam_.

Talking wasn’t _really_ the Sparda way, after all.

But if Nero was going to make effort to swallow down his pride (and years of cloistered religious shame around sex), Dante wasn’t about to embarrass him and crack whatever joke first came to mind. Which _was_ a struggle for Dante; he did default to it whenever he was feeling even a bit uncomfortable.

“You, uh, know you’re into that?”

Nero shrugged. “The sparring session from a few days ago.” Was all he supplied. And judging by how Nero shifted to cross his leg, that meant he had _really_ liked it.

Dante clicked his tongue, wondering. He’d always refrained from doing anything that courted too close to violence whilst he fucked; a fear that he’d get a few wires crossed with his lizard-half-demon brain and take it too far. Didn’t mean he wasn’t curious, but instincts were a powerful force and he’d rather not risk it. But all previous partners had been human and Nero wasn’t. Wouldn’t hurt (more than they wanted) to try…

Dante groaned and got to his feet, popping his joints in a stretch. “When you wanna do this?”

He saw Nero do a full body jolt on the couch out of the corner of his eye and whip around to stare at Dante. So cute; he was never going to tire seeing Nero’s barely restrained eagerness. He was always so raw, cocky and open on the battle field, so seeing Nero try and be subtle was just too sweet. “You _sure_?”

“Yeah, we can give it a go.”

Dante turned his head to look at the door; may as well close up for today. Any new jobs could be left by voicemail. When he looked back, Nero was on his feet as well and kept flitting his eyes between Dante and the stairs upstairs. “I’m good now.”

Dante laughed, stepping to take Nero’s hand and pulling him close, encircling his waist. A small rumble turned into a chuckle from Dante as he watched Nero tilt his head and lick his lips. Pressed together like this, he could Nero’s hard-on poking his thigh; ah, the joys of being young. “You really are _breathtaking_.” Dante purred into Nero’s ear.

And promptly got smacked on the head.

* * *

Dante shucked his pants to the other side of the room and glanced back to the bed. “You alright, babe?” he called.

“Peachy.” Nero rolled his eyes, testing against the rope on his wrists. Demon grade – tied so Nero could slip out if need be, but strong enough to withstand Nero jerking and writhing in it and not tearing by accident. Another one of Nero’s suggestions for spicing things up in the bedroom – Dante had pinned Nero’s hands above his head during one fuck when Nero had pushed Dante’s buttons and brought out his demonic side. Turns out Nero had _really_ liked it, and kept pushing Dante after that to pin Nero down during sex and fuck into him rough and fast. He did eventually explain to Dante what was up, particularly when Dante started becoming stressed from his demonic side being pulled from dormancy so often, and they worked out their little system.

Dante wondered how many of Nero’s kinks were from the thrill of ‘ooh, taboo!’ because of his strict upbringing (how wild it must be to go from tuning out of sermons to riding the son of your god, a demon), or were a result of his demon side craving a bit of pain with the pleasure of submitting. Dante supposed it made sense; his own funky demon brain hated if things didn’t quite match up. And submitting, to a demon, meant they had lost and needed to bow to a stronger demon, and that meant having lost a _fight._ Even Nero’s semi-awakened demon must be confused that Nero was willing to be tied down and fucked when he was still fresh with energy and not a mark on him.

“You remember the safe word?”

“Blood orb.” Even with Dante not looking at Nero, he could _hear_ the eye roll.

“And if you can’t speak?”

“I slip the binding and beat the shit out of you.”

Dante couldn’t help but chuckle. “ _Just_ slipping them will work.” Though, if Dante’s demon was brought too far to the surface, Dante wouldn’t blame Nero if he did kick his ass.

That said, Dante did all he could do discourage him demon from rising too much, and the best way to do that was by being so sickly sweet with Nero that his demon buggered off in disgust. That meant lavishing kisses and love bites all down Nero’s thigh and hips, and all up his chest and neck – still such a shame that Nero’s healing meant they were kept for far too short of a time. Dante ignored his own need to start working Nero open, running his free hand up Nero’s thighs and the underside of his cock to feel Nero jolt.

Once Nero was straining against the rope to rock his hips down on all four of Dante’s fingers, Dante finally lube himself up and pushed inside. He’d never get over the way Nero would arch his back, and hiccup a quick moan, like he was experiencing all of this for the first time again. Dante began a series of quick thrusts, letting Nero take the lead on this – it was his desire after all. He knew Nero could easily handle this pace, and would soon hit his stride.

Nero, of course, hitting his stride took the form of him focusing his eyes on Dante, lips twisting into a lazy smirk and a laugh bubbling out that was distorted with each moaned breath. “C’mon, old man, you going soft on me?” Nero teased, and it wasn’t the first time Dante was sure he saw the glimmer of fangs behind those lips.

“Only when you want me to.” Dante growled, feeling goose bumps raise on Nero’s thigh, before he lifted his hand and caught Nero’s throat, squeezing.

Nero arched into Dante’s grip and _gasped_. For a panicked second, Dante’s eyes flit to the rope, but only saw Nero’s hand doing the curling thing he does when he’s getting pleasantly overwhelmed. Dante kept thrusting, slowing down to go deeper and longer, seeing Nero’s eyes roll up in bliss. He could feel Nero’s walls tightening around him, his body tensing. Dante wondered what was going through Nero’s head during it; was his demon fighting, freaking out at from what a demon would interpret as violence? Or was it singing and sighing in joy at being at the mercy of such a terrible beast and being spared?

Dante’s own demon growled within at such a sweet display of submission.

Dante himself was enamoured by the reaction, and it was only Nero’s jolt that reminded Dante to let him up for air. He hauled his hands away, like Nero’s neck was scorching, watching as Nero’s chest rose and fell with each desperate gasp. Moment of truth. Nero shuddered as colour came back to his face. He took a long moment to catch his breath, and Dante slowed his thrusts to not make it any harder. Dante nearly called time out before he felt Nero’s legs tighten around his waist and heard Nero whisper a hoarse, “do it again”.

Dante couldn’t help but oblige.

It was easy falling into a rhythm after that. Dante would watch for the hints of Nero’s spirit rising, impatient for the next feel of Dante’s hands around his neck. Dante’s hand would dart out with the next thrust, and Nero would perhaps squeak in surprise, before the air was soon being pushed out him. Dante would lose his mind each time in how Nero put so much trust in him, feeling Nero’s pulse thrum against his fingers and the gentle push back of his body trying to snatch air back. It didn’t take long before Dante was fucking into Nero as hard and fast as usual, though he did miss the moans made usually. When Nero stopped struggling, Dante’s demon recognising Nero’s as rocked back into submission, Dante would remove his hand. Nero would catch his breath, body twitching and heaving, before his ever bratty demon started the challenge again.

One final time, Dante grew bold and greedy, snatching Nero’s neck the instant he’d caught his breath. Nero’s _entire_ body tensed, and Dante heard the creak of the rope threatening to yank the panels of the bed header out. However, Dante wouldn’t have minded springing for a new frame when Nero gave the sweetest keen yet, and came. Dante let go of Nero’s neck to avoid crushing it as Nero’s body turned to a vice grip around him, practically forced to follow suit and come deep in Nero.

The two lay there panting, as if _both_ had been the ones throttled. Dante managed to get feeling back into his limps first, reaching up to undo the knot, freeing Nero’s hands. He rolled to his side of the bed, pulling Nero close as he lavished attention to Nero’s wrists, massaging the indentations left by the rope and leaving kisses like he was a dashing rogue at a party kissing a lady’s hand, and not a fool in love (not that he quite recognised it, _yet_ ) that would literally do anything Nero asked of him.

Nero snuggled closer to Dante, pillowing his head on Dante’s chest, humming. “That was _good_. Thanks for that.”

Dante chuckled and pressed a kiss to Nero’s head. “No problem.” Nero was putty in Dante’s hands, melding close with his body. Dante could feel the satisfied exhausted radiating from Nero, feeling it infect himself (not that he had a high tolerance to it to begin with).

Before Nero fully nodded off, he turned his hands to lace with Dante’s and fought against the bleariness to raise his head and catch Dante’s eyes. “Were… were you good with it? Like, you feel you’re comfortable doing that again next time?”

“I’m… not _against_ it, to put it one way.”


End file.
